


I will worship your body as the moon does the sun

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: First Time, M/M, Smut, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prom (and kilts) make teenaged cliches out of the best of us. Kurt learns this first hand. Originally posted 4/17/2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will worship your body as the moon does the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my darling Ro for the beta and my Tumblr friends and followers for encouraging me. Also thanks to Alo for drawing fanart, of which I linked in the body of the fic. <3

Maybe the kilt is too much. The problem isn’t that people stare at him like he's a freak when he walks into the gymnasium or that Principal Figgins looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel in that very shiny forehead of his. Kurt’s worn more flashy, overly sexualized statements before - harnesses that blur the line between sartorial and outright bondage and pants so tight they should be illegal - so a traditional kilt with the MacArthur clan tartan is dressed down in comparison. Blaine never commented when he wore those or his boots with the slight heel or anything else. He just smiled adoringly and told Kurt that he looked nice.

The kilt, however, is a different animal.

“You look really, really hot.”

Blaine’s breath is so hot in his ear, it gives Kurt the chills. He says it right there, in front of his dad, voice dipped so low that Kurt can barely hear him. Blaine’s hand grips Kurt tight, just above the waist of the kilt with his thumb stroking over his jacket. Kurt can feel the touch like a brand, like there aren’t several layers of prom attire separating Blaine’s hand and Kurt’s skin.

At first he feels embarrassed and a little objectified. Okay, maybe a lot objectified, because Blaine looks like a starved wolf and Kurt is a piece of meat. There’s a flush high on his cheeks throughout the night. It’s there when they have their pictures taken by their parents, and throughout dinner with Rachel, Mercedes, and Sam, and when they meet the other glee kids in the choir room for a club photo. Blaine keeps his hand low on Kurt’s hip as they pass through the gymnasium floors, and his fingers edge the waistband of the kilt as they slow dance.

Kurt knows he should be taking in his prom as a whole - the fashion, the decorations, the _feelings_ of being a gay kid who brought his boyfriend to prom - but his entire being is focused on Blaine; his words, his touch, and his hungry stare when he thinks that Kurt isn’t looking.

It isn’t overwhelming, though. Kurt’s stomach flips pleasantly whenever Blaine looks at him and white-hot need courses through his veins whenever they dance close. By the end of the night, they’re both breathing heavy and Kurt is seriously reconsidering his idea of sexy because there’s no way he can compare the touch of their fingertips to the animalistic hunger present in Blaine’s eyes.

Kurt echoes Blaine’s desire throughout the night because Blaine looks good in a tux, just as he looks good in seemingly everything. Unlike most of the males in attendance, Blaine’s suit is tailored to fit in a way that looks positively sinful in comparison. When they get to slow dance, Kurt grasps Blaine’s hip under his jacket and feels the taught muscles contract as they sway.

At the end of the night, Mercedes asks if they’re going to Denny’s with the rest of the glee club. Blaine looks pained, like he’d rather do anything but. If Kurt had less self control, he’d mirror the sentiment because he’s not sure if he can stand another few hours of not being able to kiss Blaine until their lips are bruised and raw. So instead of telling her yes, Kurt gives her a smile and says, “I think Blaine and I are gonna go. It’s been a long night.”

She twiddles her fingers and walks arm-in-arm with Sam out of the gym, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone with the few stragglers left.

“You’re not actually tired, are you?” Blaine asks, a little hopeful.

“No,” Kurt answers. He takes Blaine’s hand and leads him to the exit. “I was giving her an excuse so we could be alone.”

Blaine’s hand tightens in Kurt’s and they stop in the middle of the hallway. “ _Alone_ alone?”

Kurt laughs and pulls his hand out of Blaine’s grasp and walks backwards in front of him. He says, “Perhaps,” and his boots squeak on the floor when Blaine gives chase. They thunder down the hallway, their footsteps and laughter making the lockers rattle, and break out of the school and into the night.

Kurt doesn’t remember much of the ride to Blaine’s house. Maybe they talked, or maybe it was silent. Blaine holds Kurt’s hand as he drives, which makes Kurt fantasize about all of the things Blaine can do with that hand and the places he wants Blaine to touch. He mentally catalogues them by importance, and when he’s done with that, he thinks about where he wants his own hands to touch Blaine.

As soon as the front door lock clicks into place, Blaine captures Kurt by the waist and pulls him close, closer than when they were dancing. Kurt’s body buzzes at every point they touch, thighs, hips, chest. Their lips press together and Kurt sucks at Blaine’s lip, teasing with his tongue until their kiss turns heated, passionate, and all of the blood in Kurt’s brain goes straight to his groin. He’s pleased when he finds that Blaine is getting the same reaction, however, because when he presses Kurt up against the front door, Kurt can feel the firm shape of Blaine’s cock against his thigh.

This is both new and very, very familiar. Two months together - and Blaine’s usually empty house - means that they’ve lost count how many times they’ve kissed, how many times they’ve spent hours kissing. They’ve kissed against walls and door frames and lockers; against couches and on beds and in their cars. Once Blaine had been sitting on a table and Kurt had fit between his legs and kissed him so thoroughly that Blaine was laying against the surface by the time they had come up for air.

They’d kissed so much, so often, pressed up against each other as if they were trying to prove that two bodies can occupy the same place at the same time. Naturally, Kurt had felt Blaine’s reaction when their kissing had become heated, and Blaine had smirked into his neck when Kurt’s body had done the same. There had been a little experimenting with grinding - _frotting_ as Blaine had called it - but it didn’t go very far, and they’d force themselves to cool down before anything really happened. During those times, Kurt could never tell if he felt relieved or frustrated, but now....

Now is different - so different that it makes Kurt a little dizzy and weak in the knees. He’s going to do, well, _something_ with Blaine tonight. He _wants_ to do something with Blaine tonight. He’s going to be a teenage cliche, losing his virginity after prom, just like all of the teen romcom movies he’s watched with Mercedes. All they need to make the trope complete is cheap alcohol and a surprise pregnancy in a few months.

As excited as he is, he’s also a little scared. He and Blaine have never talked about sex, not in terms of _losing their virginity_ or anything like that. Kurt knows what’s whispered behind his back, about him being on his hands and knees and taking it like the _homo_ he is, but he just _can’t_ be the “bottom” as the pamphlets called it. He doesn’t think he’s ready to give that part of him self just yet - physically _or_ emotionally.

Blaine suddenly backs off, pulling himself away just enough so Kurt can firmly plant himself back in reality. “What’s wrong? You were like a million miles away.”

Kurt sighs and rests his head against Blaine’s shoulder. “I apologize, I just - I guess I’m scared.”

Strong arms wrap around him as his own cling to Blaine’s waist, looking for comfort. They sway in the foyer like they’re back on the dance floor, only there are no chaperons and no music. A moment passes and then Blaine says in a soft voice, “I am too, you know. Scared, I mean. I don’t think I’m ready for _that_ yet, but there are other things I’d like to do with you.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll _ever_ be ready for that.”

Pressing a kiss to Kurt’s temple, Blaine disentangles himself from Kurt’s grasp. “Kurt, anal sex isn’t the be-all, end-all for love making. It isn’t the only way we can be intimate with each other.”

Kurt blushes because the words still make him feel awkward and immature, and a little like he’ll be caught hearing them. Still, what Blaine says is a balm and allows Kurt to take his boyfriend’s hand and pull him toward the staircase. With a more lascivious tone than Kurt expects to come out of his mouth, he asks, “So you said there are other things you’d like to do with me?”

Blaine groans low in his throat and the sound seems to reverberate down his arm and up Kurt’s, drawing out his desire and settling it in his gut. “There are so many things I want to do with you, I don’t know where to start.”

Stepping on the first step, Kurt looks down on Blaine and smiles coyly. “Why don’t we start with the first thing that comes to your mind and we’ll make a list later.” He bows down, grabs Blaine by the tie, and kisses him hungrily, punctuating the statement with his tongue and teeth.

When they break away, Blaine’s gaze is unfocused and he’s breathing hard with mouth open like a fish above water. “We should go to my bedroom.”

Kurt lets him go and straightens. The tie sits on Blaine’s collar off-center and slightly crumpled, making Kurt grin. He likes that he can take Blaine, who is always so poised and put together, and utterly destroy him with a kiss. “Lead the way,” he says, and moves for Blaine to pass him.

Blaine’s room is just as he remembers it, small and cozy and just as comforting as his own. He can smell the faint traces of spicy cologne, probably left hanging in the air from getting ready for prom, as well as the earthy, warm scent that’s just purely Blaine. There are magazines on Blaine’s desk and a keyboard in the corner and right in the middle is Blaine’s bed, topped with a navy blue comforter and white pillows.

It isn’t white satin sheets, rose petals, and candles, but Kurt thinks that maybe it’s so much better.

He turns to Blaine as they’re toeing off their shoes and slipping out of their jackets and asks, “What do you want to do?”

Blaine doesn’t answer right away. Instead he places his hands against Kurt’s chest and shoves him gently down onto the bed. The mattress gives a cringe-worthy squeak and they both laugh because they aren’t going to get _caught_ , no one even knows they’re here. Blaine kneels at Kurt’s feet and unlaces his boots, unzips them, and slides them off Kurt’s feet like some backwards Cinderella tale. The socks come next and Blaine rubs his calves with large, open palms, coaxing the blood to flow normally again.

“Blaine?”

“I want to worship you.” Blaine turns his head to the side and presses a kiss against the inside of Kurt’s knee. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you all night. Just standing there, in that kilt, like you had no idea what it did to me. It would have been so easy for me to pull up the fabric and see _you_ , your skin and your muscles and your _body_ that I crave so badly. Please, Kurt. Let me worship you.”

Kurt chokes down a lung full of air but still feels like he’s asphyxiating. Here is this amazinghot _sexy_ boy asking for permission to touch him and taste him like he’s made of ambrosia and his skin tastes like nectar. It makes Kurt feel all at once powerful, protected, and most of all loved in a way that Kurt didn’t realize he’s been craving his whole life.

“ _Yes_.”

As soon as he’s acquiesced, Blaine begins to place sweet, chaste kisses along Kurt’s leg, starting from the delicate part of his ankle and back to his inner knee. He looks up for permission to go further, and once he’s given the go ahead, Blaine inches the kilt up bit-by-bit, revealing more flesh than Kurt has ever shown anyone. The kisses set fire to his skin, making his body thrum with hot desire, and even after Blaine has moved on, the feeling of the kisses remain behind. Kurt hopes they never go away.

Blaine has his eyes closed by the time he reaches mid-thigh, but they snap open again when he encounters the hem of Kurt’s boxer-briefs. His eyes dart to the sliver of black cotton and then to Kurt’s face. “Is this okay?”

Kurt nods and swallows thickly, suddenly nervous because _this is it_. Once the scant layers of fabric between Blaine's face and Kurt's dick are gone, Blaine is going to see him, _all_ of him, and there will be no place left to hide.

Instead of moving forward as Kurt expects him to, Blaine bounces back onto the balls of his feet. “Why don’t you move back. This might be easier if you’re lying down.”

They move together on the bed with Blaine following Kurt until they're lying on the pillows and their legs are tangled. They kiss for a few minutes, letting their fingers fumble on buttons and fabric. When Kurt manages to get Blaine’s shirt fully unbuttoned and the undershirt ruched under his arms, he draws away and stares up at his boyfriend’s body.

Even with just the moonlight, Kurt can see that his boyfriend is built as sturdy as he’d felt during their many make-out sessions. The small patch of body hair just above Blaine’s pecs and across his abs, however, is new. Kurt slides his fingers across it experimentally, overjoyed at the way it feels on his fingers, coarse and very, very masculine.

“Kinda gross, isn’t it?”

The question startles Kurt because Blaine is _anything_ but gross. Kurt pushes Blaine onto his back and straddles his waist so that he can lean over and whisper, “No,” against his lips. Kurt kisses him, hard and fierce like he can suck the self-depreciation out of Blaine with his mouth alone. To Kurt, Blaine is perfect and he can’t stand to see him think otherwise.

They roll around a bit, laughing and knocking their limbs together at odd angles, and Blaine eventually loses his shirt completely. Kurt’s still in his kilt, but his dress shirt has been discarded already, cast to the floor somewhere. He manages to get Blaine’s pants unbuttoned but not unzipped, but he can't even care because they're rutting together, harder than they’ve previously dared, and moaning freely in a way they’ve never been able to before.

“Wait,” Blaine says against his mouth. “I want to - hold on, stop. I want to try something, okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt says and lies flat on his back when Blaine shoves gently at his shoulder.

He's curious as to what Blaine has planned and watches as Blaine sits up and moves to the foot of the bed. He's even more curious when Blaine puts his knees between Kurt's ankles and can't help shivering with anticipation when Blaine's hands slide from his feet to the edge of the kilt.

“So like I said earlier, this kilt has been driving me crazy all night,” Blaine says as he plays with the hem. “I kinda kept picturing myself under the fabric, sucking your cock.”

Even though Blaine says it sheepishly and in the least sexy tone _ever_ , all of Kurt's blood rushes to his cock, making it pulse even harder than before. He doesn't know what he says to Blaine just then, only that his boyfriend's eyes light up like he's just been told that Christmas and his birthday are arriving early. Whatever he's said, it's some kind of permission because Blaine doesn’t waste any time.

Blaine bends at once to kiss Kurt’s inner thighs, echoing his earlier ministrations but this time adding in gentle nips and sucks and licks to drive Kurt near to whimpering. When he reaches Kurt’s boxer-briefs, he doesn’t wait for a go-ahead; he just pulls them down, letting Kurt’s cock spring up against the fabric of his kilt.

“Fuck me, Kurt,” Blaine whispers as he stares at Kurt, at all of him. Kurt wants to joke or say something in response, maybe a quick _all in due time_ , but he can’t seem to get his mouth to move or his tongue to work.

Blaine’s fingers slide up the shaft and curl around its length, holding his cock so reverently that Kurt can’t help but flush. It isn’t larger or thicker than what he’s read is average and the circumcision scar stands out in bright contrast even in the moonlight, but Blaine is treating it like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Instead of immediately mouthing at Kurt’s cock like he expects, Blaine instead ducks his head and presses his nose and mouth against Kurt’s groin to breathe in his musk. Each breath tickles Kurt's neatly trimmed pubic hair and chills his skin, but when Blaine moves away, Kurt finds himself missing Blaine's weight pressed firmly against his pubic bone and the knowledge that the smell of Kurt’s sex turns Blaine on.

They look at each other for several long moments, and Kurt can see Blaine’s nervousness in his eyes. He wishes he could say something reassuring, but Kurt is just as nervous as Blaine is. Instead, he does the next best thing by seeking out Blaine’s free hand at his hip. They smile at each other, clutching at each other's fingers, and Kurt has _no_ warning when Blaine opens his mouth to slide over Kurt’s erection.

Kurt’s first thought is that he’s being swallowed whole and that the world is crashing down around him. His ears ring with the sound of his own shouts and he’s not entirely sure what it _means_ to breathe anymore. Blaine pulls off almost immediately, coughing and clearing his throat, and Kurt thinks that he might have taken too much too fast because he looks slightly red.

He asks, “Are you okay?” and Blaine nods.

When Blaine tries a second time, though, he slows down and paces himself. Instead of the immediate shock of being taken all at once, Kurt gets Blaine concentrating on just the crown. Blaine's lips create a suction and his tongue teases under the ridge and against the minuscule expanse of skin that is the most sensitive of all. Kurt’s hips bounce upward, seemingly of their own accord, and Blaine seems to take that as a sign to take him further. His hand comes up to grip Kurt's cock as he sucks back, cheeks hollowing out in his effort. [Kurt thinks he could come from the view alone, with Blaine’s hair sticking up at odd ends and his perfect Cupid’s bow lips stretched around Kurt’s cock, but he holds himself back as much has he can, mostly because he wants to make this feeling - this _night_ \- last forever.](http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/1490041.html)

Blaine quickly finds his pacing and the limits of his ability to take Kurt into his mouth. Kurt doesn’t mind; Blaine’s attempt at deep-throating was kind of intense and he likes the sensation of Blaine griping him firmly at the base. He lets Blaine know when he likes something with his moans and whimpers, and hisses when Blaine once forgets himself and a tooth brushes against sensitive skin. It isn’t enough pressure to hurt, but it scares Kurt into nearly jerking out of Blaine’s grasp. They’re more careful after that.

Before long, Kurt feels his orgasm inching closer and closer. It starts in his feet; makes his toes curl and the muscles of his calves tense. Then it works it’s way up his body, making every cell thrum with excitement. He gasps out Blaine’s name, trying to warn him, but Blaine doesn’t move. Instead, he lets Kurt’s cock rest on his tongue and sucks the tip as his hand pumps along the length. Kurt orgasm is intense and overwhelming, and his vision whites out for several moments before he comes back into himself. The bed bounces as Blaine moves around and Kurt wishes he had the energy to laugh when he hears Blaine muffle his coughing into a towel.

Finally, Blaine crawls onto the bed next to Kurt and Kurt is able to see his face and they’re both smiling. Blaine’s lips are bright red and chapped and his eyes are watering from his coughing fit, but he’s happy and Kurt’s happy so Kurt kisses him. Blaine tastes different, salty and a little bitter. The thought of tasting himself on his boyfriend - on his _lover’s_ lips is undeniably sexy. That he's changed something as basic about Blaine as his taste makes Kurt feel good.

Kurt pushes Blaine onto his back and asks, “What can I do for you?”

Blaine’s eyes close and his head tips back. “Please touch me.”

They quickly, _finally_ remove Blaine’s pants and underwear, and Kurt shimmies out of his kilt. Kurt lies against Blaine’s side and runs his hand once again through the thatch of hair with which he’s quickly becoming obsessed.

“Kurt, _please_ ” Blaine begs.

Kurt moves them so that they’re both lying on their sides and kisses Blaine slowly. His hand wraps around Blaine’s cock and the feel and weight of it in his grasp makes him moan. Blaine echoes the sound as Kurt’s hand pumps, and his hips push into the ring of Kurt’s fingers when Blaine deems his speed too slow. It takes a little while, and a few simple directions, but Kurt finally finds the rhythm that Blaine likes.

When Blaine is close, his mouth slackens and Kurt watches him with lidded eyes, wanting to see and hear and feel his boyfriend’s orgasm for the first time. Curiously, Blaine’s orgasm is almost silent, just a sharp gasp before Kurt’s fist is slick with cum. When he’s finished, Blaine sighs heavily and sags into the mattress, boneless and sated.

Re-energized, but barely, Kurt rolls off of the bed in search of the towel Blaine used to spit Kurt’s cum into. He wipes his hands and folds the towel over to find a clean spot to wipe down Blaine’s torso.

“You got a spot on your duvet,” he says after throwing the soiled towel into Blaine’s laundry basket.

Blaine grunts and pushes the duvet off the bed with his feet. “I’ll wash it in the morning. Come to bed.”

The simplicity and domesticity of the request makes Kurt’s heart sing and he wants nothing more than to accept it. He finds his phone before climbing back into bed, though, and shoots off a few texts - one to his father telling him that he’s staying at Mercedes house for the night, and one each to Finn and Mercedes requesting that they keep mum about where he really is. The plan has a high risk of failure, but Kurt doesn’t care. His dad might see right through his lie, or maybe Finn will let it slip that he isn’t with Mercedes, or maybe Kurt will forget himself and give away more than he’s willing. It doesn’t matter in that moment, however, because he has Blaine curled up at his side, fast asleep, and Kurt is happy.


End file.
